


Red Leather

by lazaefair



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28195992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazaefair/pseuds/lazaefair
Summary: Billy and Goody at the club in high heels and quality makeup. Secret Santa gift for Poemsingreenink.
Relationships: Goodnight Robicheaux/Billy Rocks
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Red Leather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Poemsingreenink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poemsingreenink/gifts).



From experience, Goodnight know that that particular pair of heels puts Billy’s ass at exactly the right height for Goodnight to bury his face between the cheeks and go to town without having to stretch his neck uncomfortably or strain his thighs in an awkward kneel. Which is good, because he’s absolutely gonna go to town on that ass the second he can coax his darling off the dance floor. Also from experience, he knows that might actually take some doing tonight. The _good_ DJ is on duty this fine night, spinnin’ the kind of sexy, complex electronic groove that digs deep under Billy’s skin and doesn’t let him go until he’s bone tired or dehydrated, likely both.

But that’s all right. It’s not a hardship to lean back in his chair, take a sip of his surprisingly decent bourbon, discreetly adjust himself in his leather pants, and wait.

To his surprise, Billy sashays away from his (very willing) dance partners not long after that – leaving them with little more than a good memory and a blood-red lipstick print each – and comes off the dance floor looking like a sweat-slicked, shirtless vision in his favorite red leather miniskirt and those wonderful, fabulous, spectacular stiletto heels. Goddamn, but Goody is a lucky man.

“Enjoying the show, my prince?” Billy smilingly drops a kiss on Goody’s upturned lips. 

“All the inbred nobility in the world have got nothin’ on you, your _royal_ highness,” Goody says, smiling back. Billy’s red mouth now bears streaks of black, and Goody knows his own mouth will have acquired a red sheen to the black, like a secret. He likes that. He likes that a lot. “You wanna get out of here?”

“I want a drink,” Billy says, but doesn’t make a move toward the bar. Goody obediently offers his bourbon up. “Thanks,” Billy says, and proceeds to drain the glass without taking his half-closed eyes off Goody. The long smooth line of his throat stretched out enticingly as he swallows. Goody watches him with patient avarice.

Billy sets the glass down on the table. _“Now_ I want to get out of here.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Dozens of kisses and two lockpicked doors later, they’re deep enough in the building that the neon-strobed darkness of the club has given way to very un-atmospheric fluorescent lighting – the offices next door, abandoned after office working hours. Which suits them down to the ground. It means Goody can turn Billy around and press him against a wall, press his wrists to that wall and order (ask) him to keep them there. Means Goody can kiss his way down Billy’s broad, warm back, sink down to a comfortable crouch resting against his own high-heeled boots. Peel the edge of the miniskirt up like he’s unwrapping the best goddamn Christmas present he’s ever been given.

Billy’s wearing nothing under the skirt, of course. That was the entire point of this night. He’s already panting a little, in fact, all that grace and power held utterly still as Goody parts his cheeks like he’s been fantasizing all night, noses all up and down the crease. Billy’s slick and sweaty and musky and Goody is rock hard in his pants just on the feel and the smell. _“Fuck,”_ he swears, heartfelt, and leans forward to spear the tip of his tongue into Billy’s vulnerable, exposed hole before Billy can respond.

Well, respond in words, anyway. He moans through his teeth instead, a low baritone note that only adds to the heat in Goody’s bones. Hellbent on giving his love the ride of his life – pushed up on his toes by those heels, pinned in place by Goody’s mouth kissing and licking him, sucking and slurping like Goody’s a goddam starving man and Billy’s his oasis.

It ain’t a sophisticated process. Billy holds on to the wall, and Goody holds on to Billy, fucking reveling in the urgent little whines coming out of Billy’s throat. Until he’s sloppy and loosened enough for Goody to slide a finger or two in. Grope between Billy’s legs and get a hand around his cock. Take him apart from both ends because Christ, he wants Billy’s orgasm now, wants it more than he wants his own.

And Billy gives it to him – obliging as ever, shaking and groaning with it. Leaves generous streaks all over Goody’s hand and the wall as he clenches tight around Goody’s fingers. Absolutely stunning. Goody works him through it, milking him for all he’s worth, from the sounds of it sending him as high as Goody feels just from witnessing it. 

Eventually, after it’s over, Goody takes his fingers out and Billy turns back around, all shaky and shivery. He looks down at Goody and puts a hand in his hair. “Fuck, I love you,” he says, still breathing heavy.

“Same to you, darlin’,” Goody says, and beams.


End file.
